


After The Fall

by Kendrene



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Lexa, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon Divergent, F/F, G!P, G!p Lexa, Hurt/Comfort, Mating Bites, Omega!Clarke, Smut, feral Alpha, feral!Lexa, post mountain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 01:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12159006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: After defeating the Mountain Clarke seeks Lexa out to take care of her wounds. But the battle has taken a far harsher toll on the Commander than she expects.ORLexa risks losing her mind and Clarke offers herself to bring her back





	After The Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheEvangelion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/gifts).



> For @theevangelion. Because I promised a fic, and a promise is a promise.
> 
> As usual, beware the tags before reading.

She found Lexa in the bowels of the earth.

Clarke thought she understood - she herself was keen to escape the grounders’ awed looks and whispered conversations. None of those she’d passed on her way down to the Mountain’s lowest levels had tried to stop her, or speak to her, but their gazes slithered down her spine like ants, and their attention was unwelcome. 

Her own people had been worse, divided between pity and disbelief. And Jasper had called her a murderer between gut wrenching sobs, his arms tightly wrapped around Maya’s still form, refusing to let go when Monty had tried to pry him away from the girl. 

But for Clarke the worst, most accusing stares had come from the dead, and she’d had no choice but stare back as she waded through the swollen, blackened corpses that littered the Mess Hall’s floor. 

She had hurried, wishing she could run, and afraid she’d step all over them if she did. Clarke had hoped that putting distance between herself and they would help, but the sense of oppression she had felt while closer to the ground was only getting stronger. 

It was as if the walls themselves had soaked up the dead’s pain and anger and her mind - tired as it was from the fight - started to play tricks on her. 

The buzzing of dying neon lights turned to a chorus of anguished voices, cursing her name. Shadows lunged at her from unseen corners, and she grew so tense that she began to expect an ambush at every turn the hallways took. 

The lower she went the less warriors she found, until only the echoing of her own footsteps remained. The first aid kit she’d slung across one shoulder weighted her down like a sackful of stones, and every scrape the Maunon’s blades and bullets had gouged into her flesh throbbed, causing her to grit her teeth till she felt them crack. 

Clarke wanted nothing more than to find a quiet place to tend to her own wounds and sleep, even though she was certain that nightmares would jump her the moment she closed her eyes. 

Instead she pushed forward, trying to use her nose to sniff Lexa out. She was sure that the Commander, who had led the first bloody assault, had not emerged from battle unscathed, but also knew that - selfless as she was - Heda would have sent all of the healers to tend to her other warriors first. 

Even with several concrete walls between herself and the carnage, the stench of death was everywhere. It would linger for days to come, months perhaps, and the memory of it would haunt the darkest hours of Clarke’s nights for the rest of her life. 

Shuffling and muted curses reached her ears from somewhere beyond a bend in the corridor, and Clarke slowed her pace, hand coming to rest on the butt of the pistol holstered at her waist. 

A group of  _ Trikru  _ warriors emerged from the shadows, carrying a half-disassembled metal contraption between them. She pressed her shoulders against the wall to let them pass, but to her surprise they stopped, the one she judged to be their leader inclining his head respectfully. 

“ _ Wanheda _ ,” he murmured, not quite meeting her eyes, “if you are looking for the Commander, she’s just ahead. She ordered these taken apart and melted.” He lifted the thick rod of metal he was transporting as if he expected his words to make sense. 

She nodded politely, eager to be on her way now that she knew Lexa was close, and to her relief they let her go, returning to their march and quickly moving out of view. 

Clarke resumed walking, wondering what the title the warrior had addressed her by meant.

A strangled gasp punched out of her chest, all other thoughts deserting her when she realized exactly where she was. 

She supposed the twists and turns had gotten her somewhat lost, each bare hallway looking like the next, but under the unforgiving glare of fluorescent lights she violently regained her bearings. 

Clarke knew the room well, having gone through it herself as she tried to find a way to escape the Mountain. It was where she’d stumbled across the horrible truth Mount Weather concealed, and where she and Anya had entered their uneasy alliance. 

Now the cages were empty, some doors open, while others hung askew from broken hinges as if someone had simply torn them down. 

A wall that she remembered lined with them was bare, the metal bars taken apart and piled on the floor waiting to be taken away. 

Lexa stood motionless in the middle of it all, head lowered and fists clenched at her sides. 

Clarke swallowed harshly - once, twice - before she moved forward, inching slowly closer to the Alpha. 

Heda’s back remained turned away, so Clarke wet her lips and called out softly.

“Lexa?” 

A growl of warning was the only reply.

“Lexa?” She tried again, the name falling full of uncertainty from her lips.

This time Heda turned, and the Omega suddenly wished she hadn’t. Lexa’s eyes were an almost solid gold that seemed to drink the light. Their usual green had been relegated to a narrow line on the outside of the irises, and her pupils had contracted to pinpricks of black that seemed to quiver in the harsh light. 

Lexa snarled, the savage noise bouncing off the walls until it seemed an entire pack of wolves had joined her, She bared her teeth, jaws snapping at the empty air, her neck so full of tension that tendons stood out in stark relief, writhing like live snakes under her skin. Foam had gathered at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes were rolling madly, no hint of recognition left within them. 

Clarke instantly knew the signs of an impending feral state, and if her eyes hadn’t served well enough, her nose would have.

Lexa  _ reeked,  _ not only of the blood and dirt of battle, but of an acrid smell that bruised the walls of Clarke’s lungs when she inhaled it. It was the promise of a violence barely contained, the scent she imagined that the most depraved of all emotions would have if they somehow ascended into the corporeal.

She almost expected Lexa to attack and bear her to the floor, blinded as she appeared to be by bloodlust. But just when the imagined feeling of Heda’s hands snapping her neck became too much to bear, Lexa whirled away and ran to the far wall. 

Bent double unlike any human would, fingers twitching as she went like she had grown claws. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Lexa vanished inside the dark corridor that snaked even deeper into the Mountain’s bedrock, and Clarke was grateful she had chosen to go that way, rather than head up towards the surface. 

All the  _ ripas  _ that they could take alive during the assault had been subdued and were being taken to Tondisi, where her mother could attempt to treat them the same way she had healed Lincoln. Others lay dead, slain along the Maunon that had been able to fight, thanks to the Sky People’s stolen marrow. 

Still, the tunnels that dug far beneath the bunker were ripe with danger; bottomless crevasses and crumbling corridors littering the way, and it was entirely possible that some grounders were searching the area, looking for stragglers as per Lexa’s own battle orders. 

If anyone saw Lexa in that state, or if - Spirits forbid - she killed someone, the consequences would be dire. Not just for the Commander, but the entirety of the Coalition.

Clarke told herself that she followed out of concern for her people, but the truth was her little Omega heart was full of fright for the one she had started to feel close to.

She tried not to linger on the fact that she may very well end up dead by the time this chase was over.

The corridors beyond the cage room were so dark that Clarke had to stop for a few moments, the neon lights’ after image burned into her retinas making her weep while her eyes adjusted to the gloom. 

She used the brief pause to hold her breath and  _ listen _ , hoping she could hear Lexa’s footsteps echo against the walls. 

But everything around her was quiet, save for the liquid patter of water coming from somewhere ahead. Once she could finally see, she started forward cautiously if quickly, allowing her sense of smell to lead her the right way.

The air was cold against her face, smelling heavily of dirt. Yet she could separate Lexa’s musk quite easily, as if she was slowly reeling in a scarlet thread that tied them together. 

Underground, with the scant light of a few naked lightbulbs along the way her only company, Clarke quickly lost track of time. Minutes slowed to a crawl around her, before stilling completely and only when her thighs began to ache she wondered how many hours had actually passed. 

She felt drained, and knew that soon enough she’d have to stop and rest a little, possibly tending to some of the worst cuts that made her skin run red. 

What spurred her onward was fear - the abject terror that if she stop she’d never find Lexa again.

In the end, her body made the decision for her, and Clarke found herself stumbling forward before she fell to her knees with a groan. 

She had been following Lexa’s scent as it guided her deeper and deeper into the mountain. Gone were the laser cut walls of the bunker corridors, the narrow tunnel she had been following that of a natural cave. Electric light had stopped a while back too, and she had resorted to using one of the glow-sticks that came with her first aid kit. 

And even though its soft, golden light didn’t illuminate more than a small area around her, Clarke knew the tunnel had let out into a much larger space. An actual breeze ruffled her hair and turned the droplets of sweat that gathered at her hairline to ice. 

She could hear the sound of water more clearly now, soothingly lapping against stone, and there was light further up. 

Not from an exit, but a funnel that bore up into the cavern’s roof and let sunlight filter down from the surface. 

Having water so close made her realize how thirsty she was - with luck she would be able to drink some of it, or in the worst case scenario rid herself of the blood and dirt plastering her clothes to her skin. 

Clarke picked herself up on shaky legs, and was almost to the edge of the pool of water before realizing she had moved. The light was stronger here, and when she bent down to wash, she saw a dim reflection of her face staring up from its depths. 

The snarl shattering the quiet caused her mind to clear of all the tiredness, and she froze, before half turning towards its source. 

She had only one moment to register the shadow flying towards her, for in the next she was thrown into the water - thankfully not too deep this close to the natural pool’s banks. 

Lexa’s scent - which a turn of the breeze had momentarily masked from Clarke’s senses - hit her full force. It had grown stronger since she’d begun her descent, cloying like sulphur vapors rising from the open mouth of a volcano. 

They trashed together in the shallows, the icy water seeping into her clothes robbing Clarke of the little breath that she had left, before they ended up back on dry land in a tangle. 

Clarke found herself pressed into the cavern’s floor, Lexa’s body far stronger than her own. Heda had years of hard training over her, plus all the advantages that not being born in space brought, and the rage currently blinding her only served to make her hands more cruel. 

Lexa’s calloused fingers closed around her throat, and - when the logical part of her mind gave way to panic - she began to thrash. 

But the more Clarke pushed against Lexa’s chest, the more she battered helpless, open-handed blows against the Commander’s shoulders, the harder Lexa squeezed. The cut that Emerson’s knife had opened on the side of her neck started to bleed again, and when twitching fingers roughly pushed into the wound - it was no more than a moment in the heat of their brawl - Clarke screamed, flashes of incandescent pain stealing her eyesight. 

For an instant she lay suspended in cold detachment, with perhaps more than a hint of disbelief, her mind refusing to accept that this was happening. And then when all seemed lost her instincts kicked in, a small yet insistent whine building inside her ears. 

A command - birthed from the most secret recesses of her very being - sparked a fire within her that devoured her veins in seconds and Clarke sacrificed herself upon its pyre. 

She went completely limp, and Lexa’s hold around her throat immediately slackened, her Alpha yanked out of its furious state by puzzlement. 

And in the brief respite she had, Clarke did the only thing that seemingly made sense.

She showed throat.

And as she did, she closed her eyes, flinching slightly when Lexa’s face pressed into the crook of her neck. The Alpha’s snarls had morphed into a softer sound, an incessant purr that drowned out Clarke’s every thought. 

For a moment she feared that Lexa would mark her with a mating bite there and then, and the thought left her reeling with nausea. It wasn’t that she didn’t want it - she had yearned for Lexa to make a move on her for some time now - but the knowledge that Heda would never forgive herself for taking something so sacred through an act of violence. 

They had been dancing around each other since the grounders and her people had entered their alliance, but had seldom managed to be alone - one emergency or the other always requiring their attention. 

Clarke let Lexa push her into the floor, pumping out her own pheromones on instinct. She wasn’t sure of what she was trying to accomplish - studying her biology in theory had not prepared her for its actual manifestation, and theory was all they’d ever needed on the Ark thanks to suppressants - but whatever her Omega was telling her to do, it seemed to be working. 

Lexa’s hands had left her throat completely, moving instead to grasp Clarke by her hips. She hoped that letting Lexa lay close like that would bring her back to reason, and she had to admit that the heat of Heda’s body over her own, hips slotted perfectly against hers as if they had been made for that purpose, wasn’t at all unwelcome. 

She felt Lexa’s lips skate under her jaw and she shivered. There was a pause when the Commander’s mouth found the wound on her neck, followed by a quiet gasp.

“ _ Klark _ ?” And just like that Lexa was back, the most pungent layers of her scent rapidly melting away, substituted by concern. 

“Yes.” Clarke winced, the bruises already forming around her neck making it difficult to speak without pain. Her voice was strained with it, and Lexa shifted, struggling up onto her arms to get off of her. As she did, their bodies actually pressed closer for a moment, and Clarke felt the unmistakable bulge of Lexa’s cock brush against her inner thigh. 

Pain turned to something else entirely, just as hot but far more searing. An emotion that branded her bone by bone, until the feeling of Lexa’s body against her own was engraved inside so deeply she’d carry Heda with her no matter where she’d go.

Just as her cheeks were beginning to burn Lexa managed to scramble off her, getting halfway to her haunches before her tired legs gave way, depositing her on her ass with none of her usual grace. 

Clarke picked herself up too, and they spent a few moments staring at each other, Lexa blinking slowly as if she was waking after a long sleep and trying to get her bearings. 

“What… uh… what happened?” Lexa cleared her throat, breaking the silence after a while. She was not staring directly at Clarke, but rather at their blurry silhouettes, blinking up at them from the shallow water. 

“You… you went…  _ feral _ for a while.” Clarke kept her voice low, calm, but even though she wasn’t talking louder than a whisper, the word cracked between them like a whip. She flinched, but there was really no other way to put it, and she thought Lexa would rather know anyway. 

“Have I hurt anyone?” Even in the scarce light, Clarke could tell that Lexa was upset by the news. There was no actual change in her expression - save for the fact that her eyes had turned back to their usual forest green - but Clarke had been around her long enough to spot the hint of a crease on her brow, before the impassive mask Heda always wore was back in place.

“No.” Clarke shook her head for emphasis, eyes leaving Lexa’s for a moment to scan the ground for her first aid kit. Both of them reeked of blood and injury, and she knew that Lexa’s wounds were probably more serious than her own. 

She had crawled to her bag, puffing out a breath of relief at finding it completely dry, when Lexa spoke again.

“Have I hurt you?”  

The words were hoarse, pained, and Clarke whipped around, finding Lexa’s gaze trained on the bruises that darkened her skin.

“Nothing that won’t heal.” She replied gently, moving towards Lexa, “besides you didn’t mean to.”

Dropping the first aid kit next to where Heda was sitting, Clarke reached out to cup Lexa’s cheek. Her fingers trembled a little, the simple touch one of the most intimate they had shared thus far. Clarke had never really used her Omega nature to comfort someone, but she knew that - because of the protective nature of Alphas - Lexa was horrified by the pain she had inflicted upon her. 

Lexa just stared, her eyes eating the little light there was until they shone like a vein of uncut emerald, faraway and ethereal amidst the smudges of kohl. Clarke was reminded of the first time they had locked gazes in the Commander’s wartent - what seemed like a lifetime ago - and of how she’d thought Lexa looked like a personification of the forests inhabited by Trikru. 

A goddess, solitary and terrible, waiting for her to display proper obeisance on her knees.  

But then, with a barely audible sigh, Lexa’s eyes fluttered close and she nuzzled into Clarke’s hand, shoulders slumping tiredly. 

“Let me take a look at you.” Clarke husked, pulling away slowly to rummage in the first aid kit. 

Lexa barely nodded, simply sitting quietly with her eyes closed as Clarke laid out a few vials. After came a roll of clean bandages and needle and thread, in case any of the cuts Lexa’s armor surely hid needed stitching. 

Clarke’s fingers found the hard surface of another glow stick, but she decided against using it - the light coming from the hole in the roof had increased, and actual sunlight speared inside the cave, breaking into a million shards of white as it hit the surface of the water. 

_ Speaking of _ .

She leaned over the pool’s edge, carefully dipping a hand beneath the water’s surface. Its chill made her fingers ache, but Clarke ground her teeth stubbornly and scooped some out, gingerly bringing it to her mouth. 

She had no way to test the water, if not by sampling it, so she took one small sip, letting the liquid slosh around in her mouth. Richness of minerals gave it a metallic sort of aftertaste, but Clarke couldn’t detect anything wrong with it by taste alone, which usually was a good sign. Besides, the water’s surface was not completely still, small waves causing the sun hitting it to jump and reflect off the cave’s vault, which probably meant there was a spring actually buried deep beneath the bedrock. 

She regretted not having bought more equipment, but on the other hand she’d never have caught up to Lexa if weighted down by a full pack. 

Tearing off a length of linen she dipped it in the water, before bringing it up to Lexa’s face. She worked in silence, removing the dried blood and war paint, before helping the Commander out of her chest armor and shoulder guards. 

With her instruments of war discarded Lexa looked younger, more human and, not for the first time, a knot constricted Clarke’s throat at the thought of the burdens that rested on those shoulders. She knew that all of Lexa’s Generals would gladly share them, but that she would not allow anyone to take even one measure of the duty she had to her people. 

Underneath the armor, Lexa’s shirt was plastered to her frame by sweat, but Clarke was relieved that there seemed to be no blood of hers staining the cloth. The only red drops of it she found, now more of a dark maroon as they dried, clearly belonged to someone else. 

Still, she let her hands touch and probe gently along Lexa’s sides and shoulders, looking for any sign of injury, aware that Heda’s eyes had snapped open at the first contact and were now following her every move. Clarke wasn’t cold, and yet under that observant stare she shivered. 

When her fingers brushed a spot along the Commander’s collarbone there was a flicker in the green depths of Lexa’s eyes, something that Clarke felt like goosebumps pebbling her forearms, rather than saw. 

“Here it hurts, doesn’t it?” 

“No.” 

Clarke poked harder, causing Lexa to actually draw back before she caught herself. 

“None of that proud Alpha bullshit now.” She chastised, hoping that her gaze was stern enough that Lexa would know she meant it, “I really need to know where you are hurt.”

A sigh, and then. 

“It hurts. Some.” 

Clarke let out a quiet snicker, rolling her eyes Lexa’s ways. She was met by a long-suffering look and a small grimace, and she guessed it was a miracle she’d gotten that much out of Lexa. And - if she had judged Heda’s character right -  _ some _ actually meant an awful lot for those who actually allowed themselves to know that they were mortal.

“I’ll help you get your shirt off to take a better look. It’s probably just a bruise but I’d rather make sure you don’t have a broken collarbone.”

Without waiting for a reply - or a protest - she leant forward, meaning to grab the hem of Lexa’s shirt to help her get it off. There was a strangled noise, and then a chilling growl froze her in place.

“Lexa?” Sweat slithered down Clarke spine, and she willed herself still, torn between pulling the Commander closer and jerking her hands away.

The tip of a finger traced the wound at her neck and she quivered.

“Did I do this to you?”  

“No.” Clarke moved her head a fraction, her face so close to Lexa’s that she could feel Heda’s breath buffeting her cheek. “It wasn’t you.” 

“Then who?” It wasn’t as much a question, as it was demand. Lexa was ordering words out of her, and due to a nature older than time itself, Clarke was compelled to answer.

“Emerson. He…” But she couldn’t continue, her vision suddenly filled with the edge of a sharp blade, her body crushed against that of a man thrice her size as he whispered dark promises into her ear and began to cut her throat. 

Clarke knew these things weren’t real, but echoes of something that had happened hours in the past. Yet her heart swelled with fear and her mouth was sour with it, her ears hot and ringing. Then a terrible cold overcame her, the endless winter of a beckoning grave as one tethers on its edge and her mind shattered under the pressure. 

She screamed. 

Something bore her to the ground.  _ Someone _ strong and warm, who gathered her within the shelter of firm arms to shield her from the shadows haunting her. 

Clarke’s nose was filled with the smell of pine and fresh snow, the heart beating against her own chasing the iciness of her limbs away. Searching lips found hers, and her screams died on the sweep of a tongue. 

_ You are safe,  _ was the message that kiss was trying to convey - you are safe and nobody will hurt you while I am near. 

She was aware of her hands tearing at Lexa’s shirt, of Lexa’s fingers frantically undoing the buttons that held hers close. All of her careful plans - find Lexa, tend to her wounds, get out of here - were scattered like autumn leaves under the touch of a capricious wind. 

There was a moment, before Lexa’s mouth found her pulse point and begun to suck, in which Clarke thought about stopping them. It was wrong, she wanted to say, for them to do this here with death so close above their heads. But the memory of the knife parting her skin was too fresh, and with it the awareness that she had walked between life and death that day, in the uncharted no-man’s-land where creation and destruction hung in balance. 

She could have lost everything; her people, her mother, her friends. She could have lost  _ Lexa _ . And as the next heartbeat shook like thunder roaring through her veins, she lost herself for real. 

In the woman above her, and the sweet torture of teeth nipping her throat. 

They shed the rest of their clothes as quickly as their hands would let them, until there was no more fabric to tear at, and Lexa was hovering above her, the leanness of her body softened into something otherworldly by the sunlight at her back.

Clarke could feel every inch of Lexa’s skin against her as if she was mapping it; she was aware of the throbbing heat of Lexa’s cock grazing her lower belly. 

“Klark we should…” Lexa bit her lower lip, and Clarke wanted to laugh her relief at not being the only one thrown off by how fast things were going between them. 

Instead she grabbed Lexa by her ass, digging her nails hard enough to make her Alpha yelp. 

“In me.” She growled, rearing up to steal a bruising kiss from Lexa’s gasping mouth. “ _ Now _ .”

She wanted it. She had wanted it for some time, and now - after having felt death’s grip tighten around her scruff - Clarke  _ needed _ it.

Lexa growled into the kiss, hand dropping between them to line up her cock to Clarke’s entrance. And when the Alpha began to push against her slit, it wasn’t gentle. 

But Clarke didn’t want gentle - what she wanted was an affirmation of life. She wanted Lexa to chase what tormented her away, to ground her to this life so that she could forget her brush with the next.

“Breed me,” she hissed in Lexa’s ears, the intention of her words underlined by the scratches she left all over Lexa’s back, “breed me,  _ Commander _ .”

Lexa roared, slamming her hips forward, hands grabbing Clarke’s sides to hold her steady as she did. There was pain, one blistering flash of it, charring the flesh off her bones, and then Clarke was rocking back into Lexa, something inside her breaking as arousal gushed all over her lover’s cock.

The pace they set for each other was brutal, Lexa ramming her entire length within her with each thrust, until all Clarke could do was wrap her legs around the Alpha’s hips, lest she be swept away completely like flotsam on high tide. 

And in the meantime their mouths explored every inch of the other’s skin, licking and kissing in places, biting in others. 

Each time Lexa’s cock scraped against a certain spot on her front walls, whimpers tumbled out of Clarke’s lips, but she didn’t care that she was laying herself bare, begging for the taking. 

All she cared about was the delicious stretch of her cunt, and the way her muscles clenched impossibly tight around Lexa’s shaft - where everything else within her grew slack. 

“You are a Goddess,” Lexa sobbed into her ear, one hand rising past her hip, ghosting over her breasts and climbing up the column of her neck to cup her cheek, “my Goddess.”

“ _ Lexa _ …” Clarke arched into her lover at those words, body blossoming under each stroke of Lexa’s hips against her own, a flower desert opening itself to rain after an unimaginable drought. 

Her inner muscles fluttered madly against the onslaught of sensation, the feeling of utter fullness growing into something too hot, too bright to stare directly at. 

Above her, Lexa’s rhythm faltered, and when their eyes met - irises again swallowed by gold - Clarke knew that they were close. Her lover’s body quivered, taut as a bowstring, and the clench of Lexa’s jaw was an indication that the Alpha was holding back, keeping herself from crumbling by sheer force of will. 

Waiting for something. 

“Spend yourself inside me.” Now it was her voice that was crackling with command, “come inside me, Lexa.” And she willed her muscles to squeeze viciously around her lover’s cock. 

Lexa called her name once, twice, and then they both were crumbling against each other. The feeling of her Alpha’s seed shooting deep within her womb canceled everything. Clarke existed only to be bred and serve as vessel. 

And when Lexa’s teeth tore into her throat she came again, turning her face against the crook of Heda’s neck to leave a mating bite of her own. Blood filled Clarke’s mouth, and with it came oblivion.

Clarke didn’t know exactly how long they spent within the cave, but when they finally retraced their step to the surface - and found the grounders preparing a camp down the Mountain’s slopes to spend the night - they didn’t earn more than respectful nods and a chuckle from Anya. 

She had expected the General to chew her upside down for disappearing without word, but Anya nodded toward the man whom Clarke had met on her way to finding Lexa. 

“He told me where he last saw you,” Anya pointedly looked at the fresh mating bites on their throats, “it didn’t take a genius to solve the mystery after that.” 

Spirits! - but the woman had a file for a tongue - Clarke thought.

“And you haven’t been the only ones.” Anya added, casting a meaningful look around the camp.

After that, they went to Lexa’s tent so that they could wash and spend the night, and that was where Clarke spent each night after that, a sense of familiarity quickly settling in. 

It took weeks to take everything of use from the Mountain, before Raven’s charges were set within the bunker and the whole place sealed for a tomb. 

It took three months in total for Clarke to realize that she was pregnant - after all she’d never been that regular - and at first she stared at Nyko in disbelief. It shouldn’t have been possible, as she hadn’t been in heat yet since Lexa had mated her, and yet it was. 

It took five more months for her to deliver - during a night of cold so bitter that water had to be kept on the fire for her to avoid it freezing - a delicate daughter they named Brigid after Lexa’s mother. 

And Clarke wasn’t the only one to give birth, a dozen other Omegas among both grounders and Skaikru having conceived their pups much the same way. 

Children of the Mountain some would call them, living proof that life and death were naught but sides of the same coin.

One often followed the other.

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on TUMBLR for more stories](https://kendrene.tumblr.com/)


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